


I Won't Look For You

by LadyLuckOfMine



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: After Inquisition, Gen, possible trespasser spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:19:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLuckOfMine/pseuds/LadyLuckOfMine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When the time comes, I won't look for you on the battlefield."</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Won't Look For You

The battlefield was chaos. On both sides, people were dying, as the people of Thedas came together to stop the Qunari invasion. More blood had been shed in this one battle than any other, as it all came to a boiling point. 

Whoever left this field alive would be the winners, once and for all.

The air was filled with screams, of the dying, the wounded, the fighting, and the blades. Magic stung the air, the veil visibly rippling as mages fought, protecting their fellow comrades. The Templars were there as the first line of defense to protect them, old enemies forced into a weird alliance, each supporting the other in ways that would have made their skin crawl before this moment.

Sharp grey eyes scanned the battle field, as Blythe Amell watched from behind the Templar line. She wore the dragonskin armour Wade had crafted for her, as comfortable in it as if it were a fine robe. She hadn’t yet been needed as a physical fighter, and had stayed with her fellow mages to fire bolt after bolt of magic.

Things were desperate, and not even blood magic was looked down upon as some mages collected the very life force from those too far gone for healing magic. Anything that could give them an advantage was used. It seemed that old views were forgotten in the face of the enemy.

That’s when Blythe saw what she had dreaded most. Storming through their troops, full of power, and as dangerous as she remembered. As surly as the day she had returned home after accompanying him on his voyage. 

Their eyes met, and it was like the world had gone silent as the two approached each other.

Blythe unsheathed her sword from its scabbard at her hip, feeling it hum with power.

“Kadan,” Sten, or as it was now, Arishok said. Asala was in his hand, the very sword that she had travelled across Fereldan for, to restore her friend’s honour. If they were still friends, here, now, she did not know.

“Sten,” she said, not caring that it wasn’t his name, nor his title any longer. Sten inclined his head towards her, a small, dare she say it, sad smile spreading across his cracked lips. “For what it is worth, I am sorry.”

“As am I,” Sten said, raising his blade as he got into a fighting stance. Blythe readied herself as well, their gazes locked on one another. “If I am to die today, then it will be a great honour to die at the end of your sword, kadan.”

“Panahedan, Sten.”

**Author's Note:**

> If my Warden doesn't die fighting Sten, or be the one to kill Sten in the next game, I will cry.


End file.
